Fiat de Verre
by Girlaremo
Summary: There have been rumors of witches in the town of Kingston, and while living with her brother, Amelia actually meets one. She doesn't know it, but Francis Bonnofoy is one of the worst. Can she escape the web of lies and fake affection and possibly save everyone in his path of deceit? Human AU, Fem!AmericaxFrance Creepy Francis is Creepy, btw...
1. Chapter 1

Amelia didn't much care for the dim streets of London or the continuous rain that had been coming down ever since the boat from New York docked there, but Arthur needed some help, and that's what he was going to get. Good old-fashioned help from Amelia, and some good American food.

She couldn't help but to smile when she saw people look at her oddly with her shorter skirts and her stockings hanging out like she hadn't a care, many older women scowled at her and the bright colors she was wearing: bright yellow rain coat, and scarlet red stockings meant for younger girls. She was happy they couldn't see the checkered dress she had gotten, because apparently black was in fashion here.

'_Nasty dark color…' _She thought, looking down the streets. Rain dripped from her hair, and her suitcase was starting to dampen.

The year was nineteen-twenty, and at eighteen, people had told her to be careful at home. Matilda, her sister, had said she didn't feel right about her going to London, that something was going to happen.

"Oh, it's just fine. If anyone tries to even hurt me, you know what I'll do? I'll sokkem!" She smiled to her sister before getting on the boat. "I'll bring you back some tea or something. The good stuff."

"Just be careful…Amelia, you're too proud of yourself to know how far you're really going." She said quietly. "Say hello to Arthur for me, okay?"

And so went the trip over, most mornings Amelia was looking over the side of the boat, smiling like a fool. It wasn't the fact that she wasn't used to being on one, but she was hoping to see dolphins or something amazing. She wanted to do everything—Drive the boat, scrub the floors, cook supper…They eventually told her if she wanted to, she could be a stewardess for a day, but she declined, not wanting to do 'actual lady-work'. Then she horrified them by telling them she wanted to work on the scaffolding on the tall buildings all day, having fun with it all, and how she didn't like the war because she didn't get to fight for America.

Many men called her insane back home, but on the boat, it was free air and she needed time to scare and awe the men and women all the way to London. It was all a matter of time before she stepped on the dock and smiled, everyone on the ship breathed a sigh of relief.

"Splendid." She smiled, finding Arthur's house and knocking on the door. "Hello? Anyone home?" Amelia waited for a moment, looking in one of the windows and frowning. Everything was dim in the house, and there was no sign of him. "Hello~?"

"Mon cher, I do believe Doctor Kirkland is at work." A voice called from behind. Amelia spun around, facing one of the most interesting faces she had ever seen. His clothes were rather interesting, too. He wore a slightly dated plum colored coat and a traditional suit wear under it, complete with a vest and bowtie. The look was finished off with a pair of shining leather shoes and a top hat. "I'm sorry to have surprised you." He chuckled, flashing a quick smile.

"Oh, I'm not surprised. I just didn't expect a Frenchie in London." She blinked, returning the smile dopily like she usually did.

"So that's what they call the French in America?" He asked, arching his brows is if he were offended though his mouth still kept a sly smile.

"How did…?"

"You're too loud to be English, and red is out of season…" He looked down at Amelia's stockings and Mary Janes, then back at her. "And the Mary Janes would be boots if you had your way, no?"

She blinked in astonishment, breaking into a laugh. "Wow, I didn't know I was an open book."

"Well, you're worth reading, actually." He nodded, taking his hat off for a moment and bowing. "I forgot to introduce myself—I am Francis Bonnefoy, ma chere."

"Amelia Jones, I'm 'Doctor Kirkland's' sister." This got a ruse out of the Frenchman, eyes almost sparkling.

"Oh? I couldn't tell! Surely you're adopted!" Francis beamed.

"Nah, mom died when we were little, so we lived with dad until…You know. War…"

"Ah, oui…but we're all coming back together, no?" He said, suddenly concerned with the rain. "You're getting dreadfully damp, no?"

"I don't mind it…" Amelia shrugged, rolling her eyes. "I like the rain here."

"Either way, you're going to get sick, cher." He patted her shoulder with a smile, waving her along as he walked. "I'll take you to your brother's practice if you like? It's better than standing here getting soggy, no?"

"I guess…" She followed, suitcase in her hand. "Say, you look awful familiar…"

"I don't know what you mean." He sighed, looking ahead as he walked. There was something that said 'Cat' blatantly in her mind-maybe it was that Cheshire smile he seemed to have? "I have not seen you before, and the same is for you, no?"

"Yeah…it's just weird."

The streets were quiet as everyone had cleared out as the rain got a little heavier. There was a moment of quiet that had come into the air, nothing but the sound of the rain was in her ears. It was a daze for the next few moments, then she was jolted awake by the voice of Francis behind her as she stood on the front step. "We are here," He said in a light tone, right by her ear. He knocked on the door for her, becoming quiet. "Adeiu, cher."

The door swung open, Arthur stood in his work clothes, utterly surprised. "A-Amelia?"

"Surprise!" She smiled widely. "And I found a new friend, he walked me here from your house since you were gone, dummy."

"Really, where is he?" Arthur arched a hairy brow, looking behind her for a moment and questioning her sanity.

"He's right…" She looked back, the stoop behind her was empty, save for her suitcase. "Weird. He musta left."

"Well, get in here. You're bloody soaked." He sighed, bringing in her belongings and moving out of the doorway. "I was just finishing with my last patient for the day." The room smelled of antiseptics and alcohol, along with the slight tinge of lavender in the air. Pulling off her coat and looking around, she actually realized how wet her hair was.

"You got a towel handy? I'm like a wet dog here." She called, strolling around and finding a half dead plant and wringing some of the water out of her hair. Arthur came out of his office, a slight scowl on his face.

"What a lady…you behave like a dog sometimes, too." He commented.

"Yup. You raised me and all." Amelia took the fluffy white towel and dried off, smiling still. It smelled like home, well…her London home. New York smelled of…she didn't really know. It varied from day to day.

"So how's Matilda? Did you leave her home alone?"

"She's with one of her friends. I think…it was Garmin? Gertie? I don't know. Some odd German name."

"Speaking of which…" Arthur sighed, poking around the reception desk. "You wouldn't mind telling me the name of your escort, right? I might know him and be able to thank him later," He looked up quickly, finding what he needed and picked it up. "If not for him, you might have been kidnapped or something."

"Um…" Amelia wracked her brains, for some reason, the walk from the house to there was a little…misty. "He was French…" She snapped her fingers, smile returning when she remembered. "Francis! His name was Francis Bonnefoy!" She grinned. Arthur looked a little shocked, if not appalled. "What? Is he like in a gang or something?"

"No he's…He's just a little shady, that's all." Arthur sighed. "I'll thank him regardless…"

"Good, cause he was real nice." Amelia nodded. They talked for a while until Arthur closed up for the night, the rain had actually stopped by then.

"What actually brought you here, Amelia?" Arthur asked, turning to her as they walked to Arthur's home.

"I just wanted to visit…and say sorry about moving away." She said, looking at the sky. "And I heard you got a little roughed up here, and I was busy…"

"After a year you came to see if I was alive?" He asked, getting a wild nod from Amelia. "Well, that's so kind of you."

"Hey, at least I didn't wait until the next war, sign up and raid your house." She poked.

"That'll be when you're an old woman; They'll never let women in the military. It's unlady-like." Arthur retorted.

"Sure, sure…If I have to fake an inspection, I will."

"They'll see your ungodly small chest and know you're a man, then…" He snickered. For some reason, he had always made breast jokes since somehow Amelia always came up short compared to Matilda. It was just his way of combating when he was called 'caterpillar brows'. "Oh wait."

"Shuddup, Artie-Bush Brows!" The girl nudged her brother into stepping into a puddle, making him curse.

"These are my good shoes!" He yelled, watching as Amelia ran farther ahead, avoiding his angry wrath.

"Ha ha ha! Serves you right!" She couldn't shake the feeling of when she was walking to the office with Francis, the whole drowsy and utter oddness of it all. Stopping, she looked around as Arthur caught up to her. Where did he even come from, anyways?

"….Brat!" Arthur muttered, nudging her before walking again.

"Arthur, why'd you look so surprised about Francis? It's like…He's not a good person or something." Amelia frowned.

"He's shady, I already told you that." He replied quickly. "Are you getting sick or something? You look a little pale…" Okay, now he was changing the subject.

"Just…Never mind." She sighed, finally reaching the house with Arthur. All she wanted to do now was find a comfortable place and sleep.

"You can have the couch…I don't have a bed made up for you, git." He sighed, opening the door and heading inside.

"The door was unlocked?"

"Ha ha, Git. Who's the dumb one now?"

"Still you…" She sighed, taking advantage of him leaving the door open as he just looked at her with an annoyed expression.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry I havent' updated this one. :I It's been a long time. I got a lot to catch up on._

* * *

Morning brought the smell of tea and slightly burnt baked goods instead of pancakes. Amelia sat up from the couch with a look that basically said 'What the Hell?'. Rousing herself from the couch, she headed to the kitchen, feet shuffling on the maplewood floors. "Arthur...you're cooking?"

"Yes, I aways cook." He was clearly burning whatever he was baking, but he didn't seem to mind. "Tea's on the stove."

"I think I'll make myself some eggs..." She muttered, heading over to the refrigerator.

"Oh no you don't. I'm short on eggs as it is. Make some toast or something." He snapped. "I'll be off to get groceries this afternoon, so you're just going to have to eat something else."

"Artie, you're a cruel man with no eggs." This was the best she could come up with, since Arthur wasn't a fan of coffee like she was, and without her morning brew, her mind was useless to her and the rest of her body.

"Keep saying that. You won't get lunch either." Arthur rolled his eyes, looking at her as she blankly strode over and poured herself tea instead, then put in another teabag. "What are you doing?"

"You drink this stuff like water. It's gross." She quickly stated, waiting a bit and then putting in sugar and cream. "This really..."

"It's better for you."

"It tastes like crap." Amelia had decided that she did _not _like tea, and she'd have to bring her own coffee next time she visited.

"Well..." Arthur huffed and salvaged what he could of his scones. Five survivors out of the eight; today was good for them, it seemed. "I've got to go into work now, alright? Don't let any strangers in with you, and don't go out."

"Wait, what? You're leaving me?" Amelia blinked, her mind finally waking up enough to make speech.

"Yes, I have a job, Amelia." He finished off his tea and grabbed a scone, taking a bite as he also grabbed his coat from the hallway. "I've got a lot of people coming in. There's a sickness going around, and it's not too pretty."

"What is it?"

"Some sort of influenza...or food poisoning. It's got people acting weird." He said with a huffy breath. "I'll be back around lunchtime with groceries so you don't starve, Amelia...until then, do whatever."

"Can I burn the house down?"

"...No. Goodbye, luv." He was out the door finally, leaving Amelia in the house alone. She _could_ rummage through Arthur's things. She also _could _go out. She still had a few bills with her, along with whatever she could find in Arthur's room. She'd eventually pay him back, possibly with interest, too. Without a second thought, she bounded up the stairs to Arthur's room. There was the WC on the left side of the hall, a locked guest room - probably filled with old furnature - and then Arthur's room on the right. The door was open, to her surprise.

"I wonder..." She stepped in, looking around. Even the desk was clean, a stack of bound letters caught her eye. They were addressed to a 'Miss Antonia Fernandez'. _Does he have a girlfriend? _She blinked. The ink was fresh, a wet dob lay on the last stroke of the address. Other bills were in a corner, along with a little box for his pen nibs. When her search of the desk turned out fruitless, he checked under the bed and everywhere else. She only found three coins and a wrapped peppermint candy.

Amelia headed back downstairs with the candy in her mouth, trying to think of what she had in her suitcase. "White shirt, red skirt..." She muttered, unlatching the case. Her clothes were strewn in, a blue circle skirt sitting on top. She may look like a college student wearing mary-janes and the skirt and a belt, but it was what she was comfortable in. Paired with a white button up shirt, she probably would be out and about against Arthur's wishes. "Pft...thinks he can tell me what to do...I'll buy his groceries for him, and I'll do it good." Pulling on her socks and shoes, she put her bag over her shoulder, sure to bring an umbrella this time since it was overcast again today.

The air wasn't too cold today, actually quite nice. Smiling to herself, she headed to market street, humming a bit. She wasn't really sure what she was humming, but by the time she got to the street itself, it was a rather calm day. Not too many were out bargaining and arguing, nor were there too many people to begin with. _How nice... _

"Hello Miss! Can I interest you in anything?" There wasn't much on the table, maybe a few–probably bootlegged–pieces of fine jewelry and other watches.

"Oh, I'm just looking around, actually." Maybe she should just leave the shopping to Arthur. It'd give her more time to snoop anyways. "But thank you~"

Wandering around further into the medium crowd, there were more and more interesting things for sale. There were some hairpins that her sister would like, but maybe she would pick them up later. The sky began to darken, the threat of rain was starting to become more prominent, so it appeared. Putting her umbrella up as soon as the first drops came, she decided maybe she should get home.

"Ah, pardonne moi!"

The familiar voice turned her around quickly, and there she was, face to face with the Frenchman she had met just yesterday. "Oh, hello." She blinked. _How...?_

"I hope you don't mind, but could I share an umbrella with you?" He asked. The rain was already drizzling, and he was almost sopping wet. So, without any problem, she moved the umbella over his head, stopping the rain and narrowly avoiding the precipitation on her side. "I just need to get somewhere dry so I don't ruin my coat any worse than it is now, you see."

"Better?" She smiled.

"Very much better." Francis nodded, flashing the familiar smile from the day before. "Care to walk and talk? We could both walk to a dry place, if you like."

The air was starting to chill, and with the rain coming down steadily, it probably would be better. "I think there was a restaurant around here somewhere..."

"I know a place, actually." He purred. "It's a very nice cafe."

"Really now?" She nodded, walking along, hoping he'd follow.

"It's right down the street..." Francis guided her along, smiling coyly. The rain was letting up only slightly, leaving a few rain drops on either shoulders. As a casual gesture, he put his arm around his shoulders, smiling slightly. The fog that had happened before came around Amelia, shrugging his arm off. "Hm?"

"Nothing, just...I think I need some coffee..." She muttered, shaking her head.

"Amelia!" A voice called, turning her in the opposite direction.

"Arthur?" She blinked, turning around to see the familiar face of her brother. "Hey there I–"

"I thought I told you not to go outside!" He barked. With the amount of rain on his shoulders, he must not have walked far. As a matter of fact, they were only a block from his practice. Oops. "And who the bloody hell is th–"

"Je suis très désolé, but I was just borrowing umbrella space with Amelia," Francis said, offering an apology to the raging Arthur. "You know, you look like you need the umbrella more, Doctor Kirkland–you don't want to get sick, now do you?"

"Amelia, go back home." Arthur said in a low tone, glaring at Francis.

"Why should I? I'm just helping a friend out!" She snapped, shaking her head and pulling Francis and the umbrella along. "Ignore him, he's just upset I'm here."

"Amelia Fitzgerald Jones, I demand you go home, _now!__" _Arthur barked, snarling as he stomped his foot like he usually did when upset.

"Bite me, you napkin!" Amelia barked back, turning to yell one last thing at him. "And get back inside, you'll get sick, Arthur."

* * *

"Are you sure you and your brother are on alright terms? I would hate for you to be moved out of his care and have to leave England so early." Francis and Amelia had sat down at a small café that had escaped the bombing. The coffee here was left over rations from may places, so the blend of it was rather different. Bold, sweet, mild all at once.

"I'm sure he'll be fine...it was only a _little _hissy fit." She shrugged, waving it off as she dumped more cream into her drink. Francis' cup hadn't been touched, as if he had only come to watch her drink instead. "What about you? Do you live around here?"

"Oui, I have a small flat for moi and the occasional guest I have." He smiled slightly, tinkering with the sugar spoon a bit. "She doesn't come around much, so I'm actually quite lonely."

"Aw, that's too bad..." Amelia pouted, sticking out her bottom lip. "But you're so nice, why don't you invite people over?"

"I could, but they usually cancel or they become ill...it's really misfortune's fault I'm lonely." Francis watched as she sipped her drink, becoming a bit more awake with the rush of caffeine in her system.

"Well, maybe if I have time and Arthur's not such a downer, I could come over? You know, bring some lunch, drink some coffee, maybe go out?"

Francis perked up at the idea, blinking a couple times. "You'd visit?"

"Yeah, I would! You probably have a lot of cooking experience, and I really think by the time I come around, I'll be starving!" She chuckled.

"Why do you say that? Arthur cooks, right?"

"He hasn't been...well..." Amelia muttered, looking to the ceiling. "He really sucks at cooking. He burns everything."

"Ah, a typical man from the England, I see."

"_Tell me about it._" She rolled her eyes, still smiling a bit. Something inside her chest thumped, a small noise escaped her mouth. It sounded like a surprised gasp, or some sort of noise heard when a tender spot is struck. Amelia flushed red, Francis looked at her quizzically.

"Are you alright, mon cher?" He asked, reaching over and patting her cheek. "You suddenly got red...you aren't sick, are you?"

"No, I'm just fine, I..." She trailed off, thoughts becoming fuzzy and unreadable. Amelia pushed his hand away, feeling some relief. "I think I might want to get going before I come home to a seething brother of mine, you know?"

"Oui, Je sais...but I'll hold you to that visit you promised." Francis smiled as she rose from her chair, following her eyes.

"I promised?"

"Well, I may have promised, but either way, I'll be expecting you, amour." He winked.

She sputtered a goodbye, raising her umbrella as she left the café. Francis sighed, leaning his elbow on the table and poured cream and sugar in his coffee. "Three spoons of sugar...and this much cream...I'll have to remember that..." He said quietly. "That's how she likes it..."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, thanks for waiting for the update. This is a bit short, I'm sorry, but I've got a lot on my plate at the moment. So, here you go! _

_Feel free to check out my other stories!_


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